Untouchable
by needsmoredragons
Summary: Superhero AU. Arc 1: All That Glitters. "It all started with a fight over a man-bag..."
1. Arc 1: Chapter 1: Man-Bag

**Welcome to** _ **Untouchable**_ **.**

 **A few notes before we begin: First, I'm going to be a radical sort of writer and request that you** _ **not**_ **send me a review unless you have something vitally important to say, like you spotted a mistake, or I've fallen into a bad writing habit, or something weird happened with the formatting. I have school and family obligations outside of this story, so I'm afraid I don't have a lot of time to devote to reviews. Instead, if you like this story, please recommend it to others, or even favorite it. If** _ **Untouchable**_ **gets a lot of hits, I'll assume I'm doing well.**

 **Second, I intend to remain faithful to the** _ **spirit**_ **of the Disney canon, if not always to the letter. I see no point in retelling the same exact story with capes and masks tacked on – that's just boring! The basic events of the films will still happen, but they may be reordered, expanded, or slightly tweaked, and some minor details may be cut entirely if I feel they don't contribute anything to the story. I will also be creating several original adventures for** _ **Untouchable**_ **, because these characters do have lives outside of a couple ninety-minute movies. Therefore, I hope you will understand when I say that Anna will be only a minor character for the first several arcs, and Kristoff likely won't appear at all for a while. Never fear, they will be promoted to regulars eventually, but for now, this fic takes place during Elsa and Anna's estrangement.**

 **Special thanks to my sister, who repeatedly read and critiqued this chapter, and miraculously did** _ **not**_ **murder me just to regain a little peace and quiet.**

 **Disclaimer: I would have thought it quite obvious that I do not own Disney,** _ **Tangled**_ **,** _ **Frozen**_ **, or any other subsidiaries or intellectual properties thereof. If I did, I wouldn't be skulking in the dark, seamy back alleys of the Internet, hiding behind a pseudonym and a rather flimsy disclaimer. I am merely an incurable geek at the mercy of a particularly vicious plot bunny (seriously – I think it's related to the Killer Rabbit of Caerbannog).**

 **Rated T for language, people beating each other up while dressed in "special outfits," and Flynn Rider being a perv.**

* * *

 **Arc 1 – All That Glitters**

 **Chapter 1**

 **The Epic and Legendary Battle of… the Man-Bag?**

It all started with a fight over a man-bag.

Just before eight o'clock on the morning of June 20th, said bag was accompanying its rather unsavory owner and two even more unsavory others across the roof of a grand mansion. The latter were a pair of hulking ginger twins by the name of Stabbington (a surname destined for criminality if there ever was one) who barreled along the dips and peaks of the rooftop with more urgency than grace; the former was the semi-gentlemanly thief known as Flynn Rider, who was gliding and leaping with easy agility well ahead of his associates, all the while humming "With Catlike Tread."

"Will you knock that off?" growled the Stabbington with two eyes and two sideburns. "Someone's gonna hear."

"What, not a fan of _The Pirates of Penzance_?" Flynn replied with excessive innocence.

"Never heard of 'em," was the curt response. "Now shut up."

Flynn smirked to himself. That was the nice thing about working with the Stabbington brothers – they never failed to make him feel superior. Not only were they completely oblivious to his little dig at their stealth abilities, they were taking long enough to catch up to him that, upon reaching the easternmost end of the roof, he was able to steal a few seconds to enjoy the spectacular ocean vista. "Wow," he mused aloud. "I could get used to a view like this."

"Rider –"

"No no, hold on a second… Yep, I'm used to it."

" _Rider_ –"

"That does it, guys: I officially want my own big fat playboy mansion by the sea."

Both Stabbingtons were beginning to fantasize about giving Rider a better look at his precious view by throwing him off the roof. "If you quit %#!&ing around for five seconds and _do your damn job_ ," the twin with facial fur said through gritted teeth as he and his brother uncoiled a length of nylon rope, "you can buy _ten_ mansions!"

Flynn finally deigned to tear his eyes away from the horizon and glance over his shoulder at the Stabbingtons. "What's got your panties in a bunch? Hot date later?"

"The longer we're up here waiting for you to quit dancing around and smelling the roses, the more likely someone's gonna look up and spot us!" snapped the hairier Stabbington. The other brother merely directed his patented one-eyed glare at the third man; for reasons Flynn _really_ did not care to inquire about, the clean-shaven twin with the eye-patch never said a word – hence he had started privately referring to them as Speaking Stabbington and Silent Stabbington.

"Relax, guys – I am a _consummate professional_ ," Flynn reassured them. "If I wasn't, then we wouldn't be hitting this place up during a shift change on a day they've only got partial security." He gestured to the mansion grounds below, where a handful of security guards meandered blearily through a crowd of other personnel, exchanging news, coffee, and donuts.

"But who steals a priceless heirloom in broad daylight, genius?" sneered Speaking Stabbington.

"Exactly," Flynn grinned. "They won't know what hit 'em. Besides, early morning is the best time to catch the resident mask-and-spandex crowd with their tights down. Or would you rather try this at night, when they're swooping all over Kingston like Crayola-colored bats?"

Speaking Stabbington grunted dismissively, but couldn't really find a hole in that argument. Instead, he turned a skeptical scowl on the attached solarium directly below. "And you're _sure_ the necklace is in there?"

"Oh, it's in there – I have it from a _very reliable source_."

...

 _A few nights earlier –_

 _A pretty brunette dressed for a night on the town slammed her shot glass down on the bar and gasped as her drink burned its way down her esophagus._

" _Look at you go!" laughed the guy she'd allowed to buy her the last couple rounds. There was just enough ambient light in the club for her to tell that he was really cute… but not enough for her to match him to any police bulletins floating around._

 _The brunette smiled sheepishly. "I'm not usually such a hard drinker –"_

" _Oh no, I admire a woman who can handle her liquor." Had she been a little less stressed and tipsy on top of it, the girl might have realized the guy's smile was just a bit too toothy to be sincere._

" _I just really need to blow off some steam," continued the unwitting mark. "My boss has been busy with coordinating this really big event – actually, you probably know it – it's that big benefit that the Florian family throws every year down at Corona Beach?"_

 _Cute Guy's eyes widened. "The one where the Boardwalk's open all night? With the big fireworks show? You're working on_ that _?"_

 _The brunette couldn't help but preen a bit at the admiring tone. "Well, the businesses on the Boardwalk actually pretty much take care of themselves. They have a planning board –"_

" _The Boardwalk has a_ board _? You don't say!"_

 _She giggled (hey, she was tipsy, remember?). "Anyway, the part_ we _have to coordinate is the private gala that the Florians hold at their estate."_

" _Sounds pretty fancy." The brunette would never know how hard it was for Flynn to keep all (well, almost all) traces of derision out of that comment._

" _Oh yeah! There's a formal dinner, some dancing, and a philanthropic auction – y'know, pretty standard for that crowd. There's a lot of pressure to make everything go perfectly, though, so my boss has been running us absolutely ragged."_

" _Poor thing," Flynn replied sympathetically. "Tell you what, how 'bout I order us another round –" he gestured to the bartender before turning back to the brunette, "and you can tell me_ all about it _."_

 _..._

"Like I told you before, they're keeping all the stuff in – whatever that glass room down there's supposed to be – before bringing it out for the auction tomorrow night," Flynn explained to the Stabbingtons. "Well, all except the yacht."

The twin thugs gaped at him. "There's a yacht?"

Flynn rolled his eyes. "It's a bunch of one-percenters getting together to show off how much money they have to burn. _Of course_ there's a yacht."

"All that expensive stuff… And the necklace is worth as much as the rest put together," Speaking Stabbington said slowly. Had his mental calculator been a physical object, it would have been smoking and threatening to explode.

"Told ya – _the take of a lifetime_." Flynn's smile took on a distinctly predatory – and vastly less charming – cast.

Speaking Stabbington seized Flynn by his vest. "Which brings us back to _why the hell are we still standing around_?"

...

Not a minute later, Flynn was descending soundlessly towards the solarium like a spider on a nylon thread. The Stabbingtons, under the twin influences of greed and nerves, were feeding him slack a little too fast to be strictly safe, but Flynn Rider, Master Thief and Ladies' Man Extraordinaire, was nothing if not a risk-taker. He landed on the glass roof spread-eagled, distributing his weight so as to make as little noise as possible. After peering through the glass to make sure there was no one within that might notice him and raise the alarm, he crawled towards a pane that had been propped open for air circulation. He eased himself feet-first under the pane and around the rod supporting it without touching either (a feat, he noted smugly, that the brutish Stabbingtons could never have accomplished), and descended at last into a thief's paradise.

It was a veritable treasure trove – paintings, sculptures, expensive vases, complete sets of fine silver and china and crystal glassware, even a handsome antique mirror, all suffused in a golden glow from the morning sun shining through the solarium walls. Flynn couldn't help but gape in awe as he unclipped himself from the rope; he hadn't seen this many beautiful, valuable things collected in a single room since he'd broken into the gemology exhibit at the Kingston Museum to steal the Devil's Eye Diamond. If it hadn't been for that one alarm system he hadn't noticed in time, and a Heroes United squad that just so happened to be in the neighborhood, Flynn would have made off with more than one shiny tucked away in his satchel. Here in the Florians' solarium, however, there was only one item that could be conveniently and discreetly carried – and _that_ was currently resting on a podium in the center of the collection, draped around a porcelain stand shaped like a woman's neck.

"Hell- _o_ , beautiful," Flynn breathed. And beautiful it was – the necklace was many generations old, and positively dripped with expertly cut rubies and emeralds and diamonds, all set into 22-carat gold. Flynn strode to the podium, and very carefully lifted the necklace off its stand. "What do you say you and I blow this joint and go have some fun?"

He suddenly became aware of a _presence_ off to his right, and whirled around.

" _Ack_!" he yelped as he was confronted by a creature with an angry orange kraken for a head. As the initial shock abated and his heartbeat settled, he realized it was actually the most ferocious case of bed-head he'd ever seen, attached to a gangly teenage girl in duck pajamas who could barely keep her eyes open.

" _Coffeeee_ …" groaned the intruder.

"Uh, that would be in the kitchen," Flynn told her helpfully. When the girl just stood there unresponsively, he pointed back towards the main house. " _That_ way."

The coffee-zombie grunted, then turned and shuffled off.

"Somebody is _not_ a morning person," Flynn snickered. Energized by the knowledge that he had been caught in the act and was _still_ going to get away clean, he put the necklace in his satchel and hurried back to the rope still dangling from the ceiling.

He was in the process of attaching the first clip when fortune turned fickle on him. There was a _thump_ from the general direction the girl had shambled away in, then a resounding chorus of crashes and a startled shriek. Flynn decided to forego the clips entirely and shimmied up the rope the old-fashioned way. As he neared the open pane, he heard the sound of running footsteps and glanced down just in time to see a now-very-awake redhead come skidding back to the podium. She looked from the empty stand to the rope, then followed that up to level an accusing glare at Flynn. " _Hey_!"

"Bye!" Flynn shot her a very unapologetic smile and heaved himself through the opening, no longer caring about the racket made by the pane and the rod as both were shouldered aside. "Oh, and by the way – nice hair!"

The girl blinked at the thief as he raced back across the solarium roof. Then she took a look at herself in the antique mirror.

" _Ack_!"

...

" _What the hell happened_?!" Speaking Stabbington bellowed, as calls for security chased the three thieves across the length of the manor.

"Some kid wandered in and saw me," Flynn replied dismissively. "I was on my way out anyway, so all it means is our getaway's gonna be a little more exciting than we planned."

"I don't _want_ an exciting getaway, I want a _clean_ one!" snarled Speaking Stabbington. "Why didn't you gag the little snot and stuff him in a cupboard, or knock him on the head, or _something_?"

Flynn threw a scowl over his shoulder. "I told you – I was already on my way out."

Silent Stabbington abruptly hit his brother on the arm and indicated one particular dip in the roofline with his thumb.

"Hey, wait a minute –" the two-eyed twin realized, "we passed the spot where we came up!"

"Too slow – we can get down faster at the front entrance," Flynn called back, not bothering to check if the Stabbingtons were even still following.

"Are you crazy? It's too exposed! We'll be –"

" _They've already seen us_! At this point, all we can do is outrun them!" And with that, Flynn leaped right off the edge of the roof.

He managed to land on the balcony below without breaking anything; that was the easy part. The complicated bit was getting over the railing and onto the portico roof below, then sliding down and off the roof and trying to aim for a relatively non-prickly bush. Flynn, expert cat burglar that he was, accomplished this with aplomb, and Silent Stabbington managed it without the aplomb, but Speaking Stabbington hit a rosebush buttocks-first. Flynn was fairly certain the Canadians could hear his bellowing.

Speaking Stabbington fought free of the fearsome man-eating rosebush, and all three men raced flat-out for a certain tree that had been allowed to grow too close to the estate walls. Over relatively flat, open ground, the Stabbingtons proved better able to keep up with Flynn; the rather doughy security guards, on the other hand, didn't have a prayer. As they watched the thieves get farther and farther ahead, and closer and closer to the tree, several of the guards decided there was nothing for it but to use their guns – only to be rudely reminded that hand pistols did not have a very long range. If anything, the bullets hitting the dirt just shy of their heels only motivated Flynn and the Stabbingtons to put on an extra burst of speed; they reached the tree and swarmed up and over the wall in what seemed like a matter of seconds.

"Dammit," wheezed the lead security guard, hands on his knees. "All right – call the police, and Heroes United. I gotta figure out how to explain this to the Florians…"

The red-haired girl Flynn had encountered in the solarium rushed up to the cluster of security personnel, still in her ducky pajamas and still in dire need of an industrial-grade hairbrush. "Did you catch them?"

The lead guard sighed and turned to face her. "I'm sorry, Miss Valen, but – _ack_!"

...

Ancient Rome had its circuses and gladiators; Kingston had superheroes. Thus it was that the police were only able to locate Flynn Rider and the Stabbington brothers because several media helicopters had already latched onto the trio, hoping for a show. The only thing thicker in the air than the choppers was all the hype flying back and forth:

"– _notorious criminals Flynn Rider and the Stabbington brothers have taken to the rooftops_ –"

"– _police in hot pursuit_ –"

"– _a necklace that has been passed down from mother to daughter for years. Its estimated value is over_ –"

"– _rumored to be offering a substantial reward_ –"

"– _niece, Anna Valen, courageously raised the alarm after a harrowing encounter_ –"

"– _still no sign of Heroes United_ –"

"– _on them any minute now_ –"

"And you're waving at them," Speaking Stabbington said, voice dripping with disgust. "Unbelievable. What next? You gonna blow kisses?"

"Depends," replied Flynn, injecting a little something fancy into his vault over some rooftop piping for the benefit of the news cameras. "Can you see which ones have hot anchorwomen in them?"

On the streets several stories below, the chatter on the police frequencies was just as intense – if significantly less chaotic – as that flowing to various news feeds above.

" _This is Lieutenant Oberlipp calling Chopper One – do you have visual_?"

" _Barely, Lieutenant – it's a freaking circus up here! Damn mask-chasing vultures won't get out of the way_!"

" _Do the perps look like they'll be running out of steam anytime soon_?"

" _The Stabbingtons look like they got some mileage left in 'em. Rider's eating this up_."

" _Of course he is_. _Can you see where they're headed_?"

" _Still northerly, not that they have much of a choice on this street if they want to keep to high ground. They'll run out of roofs eventually_."

" _That won't slow 'em down too bad, especially if Heroes United doesn't bother to drag their asses out of bed. There's too many ways for these scumbags to disappear on the north side… Attention, all units: I want everyone to keep herding these three towards downtown – they'll have to go down to street-level there, and we can box them in. Chopper One, let me know the second Rider and the Stabbingtons try to change course!_ "

" _Copy, I'll –_ whoa!"

" _Chopper One, what happened_?"

" _Sorry, sir – a red-blue-and-yellow blur went zooming by, caught me by surprise. Looks like they got out of bed after all_..."

Back on the rooftops, Flynn detected a sound he'd been expecting since he and the brothers had escaped the Florian estate: the _fwoosh_ of roughly a hundred and thirty pounds of human flesh hurtling unaided through the air at a good forty miles per hour. The source of this sound streaked past the thieves and came in for a landing a little way in front of them, revealing itself to be a petite, curvy woman wearing primary colors and a thick layer of white face paint.

"Oh great – Snow White," huffed Speaking Stabbington.

The superheroine thrust her palm out towards the three men charging in her direction and cried, "Halt, villains!"

Flynn knew well enough to skid to a stop and start looking around for alternate exit strategies, as well as any other supers waiting to pop out at him (nobody from Heroes United ever worked alone), but the Stabbington brothers attempted to rush Snow White, because apparently their answer to everything was "beat it to death." This strategy didn't work very well with flying heroes, however, as the twins were reminded when their target leaped daintily back into the air, leaving the Stabbingtons frantically windmilling their arms at the edge of the roof.

"You know resisting arrest just makes things worse for you," Snow White chirped at them.

Speaking Stabbington's response would have been deemed too filthy even for a truck stop.

"Well, _that_ was rude! What would your mother say?" said the highly offended superheroine.

Flynn decided to try and get some useful information before the situation devolved further; in his considerable experience, it never hurt to butter a woman up. "Good morning, dollface – don't you look pretty today!"

Snow White beamed. "Why thank you! Nice to know _one of you_ has some manners." She aimed a significant look at the Stabbingtons, who had redirected their ire towards Flynn once more.

"Do you have to make a pass at everything that moves?" Speaking Stabbington cried.

"Of course not – if I did, that would make _our_ little partnership kind of awkward," Flynn retorted.

"They have a point, actually," Snow White said, as the twins suddenly became preoccupied with turning green around the gills. "You really _shouldn't_ flirt with every girl you see, and especially not with superheroines. Criminals aren't our type, and it makes our menfolk mad."

"Oh yeah?" Flynn smirked. "Is your husband going to jump out and challenge me to a duel, then?"

"Lucky for you, no," Snow White blithely replied. "It's just Crystal, Dreamgirl, and I this morning."

Flynn raised his eyebrows. "Really? Just three against three? I don't know whether to laugh or feel insulted."

Snow White wagged a finger in Flynn's general direction. "Don't get too cocky, Mr. Rider. We should have you boys in custody and the necklace returned to its rightful owners in time for breakfast!"

The criminal trio and their costumed opponent all looked up as a familiar sound, like someone running a finger around the rim of the world's biggest crystal wineglass, made itself heard through the cacophony of police sirens and circling choppers. Yet another helicopter, this one silvery and more delicate than its fellows, appeared in the sky and made a beeline for the rooftop standoff.

"Here come the others now!" chirped Snow White. "Looks like you guys are _toast_!"

"That's the lamest thing I've heard since… Rider's last pick-up line, actually," deadpanned Speaking Stabbington.

"Now boys, just 'cause I have game while you two couldn't pick up a blind hooker is no reason to be jealous," Flynn replied loftily. "And by the way, dollface, the wind's blowing your skirt up."

" _Eep_!" In a paroxysm of modesty, Snow White crossed her ankles and fisted the hem of her yellow mini against her thighs, while Flynn hissed " _Go_!" at the Stabbington twins and bolted for the closest neighboring rooftop.

As the three thieves raced off, the silvery helicopter drew level with the still-dithering Snow White, and a female voice came on over a loudspeaker. " _Snow White, what are you doing_? _They're getting away_!"

"My skirt's flying up!" the primary-colored heroine shouted back. "I don't want to flash everyone!"

" _Oh, not again…_ " sighed the voice.

A second woman spoke up. " _Sweetie, you have built-in shorts underneath, remember_?"

Snow White slapped herself on the forehead. "Oh, _right_!"

Meanwhile, Flynn and the Stabbingtons were actually sharing a laugh for once. "She falls for it _every time_!" Flynn guffawed.

"Ha! That's Super-Ditz for you!" Speaking Stabbington replied. "I love seeing those do-gooders get taken down a peg."

"Yep, the egg's on her face this time!"

" _No more breakfast puns_!"

Flynn was leading the other two on a new, more convoluted path across the rooftops, using any and every possible object in the vicinity to try and break the line of sight between pursuers and pursued. Given that said pursuers were airborne, this strategy wasn't helping the thieves any more than zigzagging helps a rabbit to escape a hawk.

"Run, run, run, as fast as you can…" murmured the shining helicopter's curvaceous, blue-and-silver-clad pilot. "Did Rider just blow a kiss at us?"

Her willowy blonde passenger, Dreamgirl, smiled a little. "'Cheeky,' as my old headmistress would say."

"That's Flynn Rider in a nutshell, isn't it?" Crystal laughed. "Can't take your eyes off that man for a second, or he…" She trailed off, squinting in the direction her targets _had_ been heading. "…should have come out on the other side of that stairwell access by now, shouldn't he?"

Dreamgirl leaned forward. "Did they go inside?"

"I don't see why they would," Crystal replied, swinging the helicopter around for a better look. "Going through a building's not their best option for escape. They might be hiding on the other side, hoping we'll pass them –"

"They're down in the alleys!" Dreamgirl interrupted.

"You see them?"

"Not me – Snow White." The blonde pointed out the window at their teammate, who was frantically waving at the helicopter while jabbing her pointer finger at a spot down between the buildings.

...

" _Chopper One to Lieutenant, I have lost visual on the perps – repeat, I have lost visual_."

Lieutenant Oberlipp cursed and hit his steering wheel. "Please tell me you have a general idea of where we can pick them up again."

" _Well, they were doing a lot of zigzagging, but they were still headed north_."

"My morning just keeps getting better," Oberlipp grumbled. "All units, be advised: this is now a manhunt, not a pursuit. Repeat: the pursuit is now a manhunt. HQ, get a BOLO out for Flynn Rider and the Stabbington brothers, put in a note that they're likely headed for the airport or –" The Lieutenant nearly jumped out of his own skin as none other than Flynn Rider suddenly leaped onto the hood of his patrol car.

In his shock, Oberlipp nearly swerved into the next lane; Flynn used the momentum to slingshot himself onto the next car over, then continued to car-hop right across the busy road. The Lieutenant could see the Stabbingtons following suit in the rearview mirror, leaving many dings and dents in their wake.

"Never mind," Oberlipp growled into the radio.

On the other side of the street, Flynn landed on the sidewalk and turned to check who was still following. The Stabbingtons were still a couple cars behind, Snow White and her friends in the fancy helicopter were coming out of the alley he'd just exited, and the patrol car containing the cartoonishly-mustachioed Lieutenant was attempting to bully its way through the multiple-car pileup that a certain pair of ginger man-beasts had managed to cause. Flynn yelled "This way!" and took off towards another side alley just as the Stabbingtons' enormous boots hit the pavement.

Flynn always bragged that he knew the streets of Kingston better than anyone, and he was in his element in the tangle of little-used back alleys that he'd chosen to get lost in. He shot down corridor after corridor and whipped around random corners so quickly that he nearly shook off his partners as well as his pursuers.

"Slow down!" Speaking Stabbington panted. "You're gonna run us right back to the super-hos, or into a dead end!"

"I know _exactly_ where I'm going!" Flynn called back as he raced down one particularly long and twisty alley. "When are you gonna learn to trust my judgment? I mean, have I ever steered you wrong before?"

It was at that exact moment, of course, that the laws of the universe conspired to end the alley in a solid brick wall, forcing all three men to skid to a halt.

"Huh," was all Flynn could come up with.

"We're gonna kill you, Rider," Stabbington Numero Uno told him in a matter-of-fact tone. " _After_ we double back and get the hell out of this cluster%#! &," he amended as the musical, ringing sound of the Heroes United helicopter sang out somewhere nearby.

"Oh yeah, sure, no problem," Flynn said in a distracted sort of way. "Quick question – by any chance, do you remember whether that second-to-last turn was a right or a left? Hey, calm down," he added hastily as the twins' expressions turned murderous. "There's other ways out of this."

"You better come up with one _fast_ ," Speaking Stabbington threatened.

Flynn looked up at the walls surrounding them. "Okay, here's the plan – you guys give me a boost up to that fire escape, and I'll lower the ladder for you, and we'll get back up to the rooftops."

The Stabbingtons exchanged a look, and Flynn found himself nervously reconsidering every urban legend about twin telepathy he'd ever heard. After a long, tense moment, three suspicious eyes turned back to Flynn. "Give us the satchel first," Speaking Stabbington demanded.

Flynn reared back and put one hand on his chest – and over the strap of his satchel. "What? I don't believe this… After all we've been through together, _you don't trust me_?"

All he got in response were two identically stony glares, and what he could swear was the sound of crickets chirping.

"Ouch," Flynn deadpanned. Nevertheless, he slid the satchel off his shoulders and dropped it into Speaking Stabbington's outstretched hand.

One tense and severely awkward minute later, the ringing of the Heroes United helicopter was growing noticeably louder, and Flynn was clambering unsteadily up a stack of Stabbingtons. He made it up Silent Stabbington without too much trouble, but nearly slipped off completely when he tried to climb on top of Speaking Stabbington's shoulders. He managed to catch himself, however, and on the second try, Flynn successfully maneuvered himself into a standing position atop the two-eyed brother's shoulders.

"Okay," he panted, stretching one arm upwards. "I think if I just…" Speaking Stabbington emitted an affronted sort of grunt as Flynn used his head as a springboard and just barely managed to grab hold of the fire escape's bottom edge. Flynn curled his entire body upwards, hooked his boots through the railing, then finally hauled himself onto the fire escape.

"Okay, now lower the ladder, pretty boy," Speaking Stabbington growled. "That damn helicopter's gonna be right on top of us any second!"

Flynn looked down at the twins. "Sorry, guys…" A big fat crocodilian smile spread over the thief's face as he held a suspiciously familiar-looking satchel aloft. "My hands are full!" And with that parting shot, Flynn Rider ducked through an open window and left his partners stranded below.

He found himself inside a musty, overstuffed living room, complete with an old television set and an even older couple sitting on the couch and staring at him.

"Hi," Flynn said casually.

" _RIIIDEEERRRR_!" Speaking Stabbington's vengeful scream rattled the window.

"Bye," said Flynn, striding to the apartment door and letting himself out.

The female half of the elderly couple shook her head and clucked her tongue. "Young people these days! If he's going to climb in our window uninvited, he could at least stay for breakfast like a civilized human being."

The window's somewhat dusty curtains suddenly billowed as a brisk wind and a high, crystalline sound invaded the apartment. The old man twisted a knobby finger in his ear. "There goes my hearing again – my ears are ringing!"

" _Stay right where you are and put your hands where we can see them_!" boomed a female voice from the alley outside.

The old woman sniffed. "No, dear, that's just the sound of the neighborhood going bad."

...

Meanwhile, Flynn was on the hunt for an unoccupied apartment on the other side of the building. He found one with several days' worth of mail piled in front of the door two floors above the elderly couple. He was a little disappointed to discover that he didn't even need to break out his lock-picking tools to get inside – there was a spare key under the welcome mat. Mere seconds later, he was leaning out the apartment window, assessing his options for escape. The fire escape on this side of the building was several windows down and out of his reach, but this particular alley was festooned with clotheslines, and the building opposite had a drainpipe almost directly across from him.

Flynn leaped from the windowsill to the nearest clothesline; he hooked his ankles up around it, and pulled himself across the alley upside-down. Upon reaching the other side, he had to swing a bit to get one hand and foot on the drainpipe, but once he had it, ascending back to roof-level was as easy as taking a satchel off a Stabbington. As he neared the top of the pipe, Flynn turned to look for the Heroes United squad. He could just see the silvery helicopter parked on the roof of the building he'd just come through; and if he listened closely, he could detect the sound of a raging brawl going on somewhere in the alleys below. Flynn grinned, and pulled himself onto the roof.

"Alone at last!" he said, patting his satchel affectionately as he strode off across the roof. "Now you and me are gonna catch a plane and fly off into the sunset together."

Flynn froze mid-stride as an enormous cluster of icicles suddenly blossomed into existence right in front of him. After a second spent trying to mentally process what the hell had just happened, he took a careful step back from the razor-sharp spike of ice that had been trying to get into very intimate contact with his nostrils, and turned to see who was making his life difficult now. The culprit turned out to be a young woman with a thick, white-blonde braid and a mask that covered everything below her eyes, which were currently glaring daggers at Flynn.

"I gotta admit," Flynn said conversationally, "out of all the supers in this town, I was _not_ expecting you."

"Bad luck for you, then," the woman replied flatly.

"Snow Queen, right?" Flynn asked.

The masked woman's shoulders jerked in a stiff shrug. "So they call me."

"Well then," Flynn pasted on his signature panty-dropping grin (patent pending). "How may I be of _service_?"

" _Don't. Even. Start._ " The Snow Queen pointed her finger at him, emitting a small warning burst of ice crystals.

Flynn raised his hands and laughed. "Easy! What's got you in such a bad mood this time? And please don't say it's lady problems, I don't need to hear about it."

"I'm in a bad mood," the Snow Queen snapped, "because _somebody_ broke into a family's home, stole an item meant for charity, and threatened a teenage girl!"

Flynn blinked. "Wow. So who pissed you off so much that you had to bury the whole city in a random blizzard last month?"

"None of your business," the Snow Queen replied shortly. "Now hand over the man-bag."

" _Man-bag_?! Excuse me, this is a _satchel!_ " squawked Flynn.

"Oh please, you're basically walking around with a purse."

" _It is not a purse!_ "

"So you're _not_ carrying jewelry in it right now?" the Snow Queen deadpanned.

Flynn scowled. "For the last time," he said through gritted teeth, "it is a _satchel_. And who are you to talk anyway, Madam Hooker Boots?"

" _Hooker -_!" the Snow Queen bit off her reply, and took a deep, calming breath. "No, this is stupid – I don't care what you call it, just hand it over!"

"Hmm…" Flynn stroked his goatee. " _Nah_." And he was off once again, with the Snow Queen in not-so-hot pursuit.

Flynn took a flying leap onto the next rooftop over. He glanced back over his shoulder to see if and how the Snow Queen would follow him across that gap; to his irritation, an ice bridge formed under her feet as she ran after him. The good news was that he was already gaining some distance on her – maybe it was her newbie status, or the heels on those thigh-high boots, but the Snow Queen wasn't nearly as fast as Flynn.

As it turned out, however, she didn't need to be. All she had to do was continually cut him off and slow him down by throwing gigantic clusters of bristling icicles in his path. In order to avoid getting impaled or turned into an ice sculpture himself, Flynn had to concentrate twice as hard on evasion as usual, which was both annoying and a little embarrassing. He was supposed to be halfway to the airfield by now, not messing around with Kingston's latest super-wannabe. He was finally forced to admit that it was time to change tactics when the Snow Queen hit upon the idea of covering an entire rooftop in a slick layer of ice, effectively transforming it into a high-rise skating rink and causing Flynn to fall flat on his face in a spectacularly undignified fashion.

He lay still, taking the opportunity to catch his breath a little as he listened to the Snow Queen's heels click closer. How _she_ was managing to remain in an upright position, he couldn't imagine. Her footsteps slowed as she drew nearer to his prone form, holding her hands cautiously out in front of her.

"Ready to surrender yet?" she asked.

 _Just a little closer, Frosty,_ Flynn mentally coaxed her. Out loud, all he said was, "Not too bad… for a newbie."

"Oh, you don't know the _half_ of what I can do," the Snow Queen replied darkly. "Believe me, I'm going _easy_ on you." She was almost on top of him…

"In that case – allow me to _express my gratitude!_ " Flynn planted his palms firmly underneath him and swept his legs into the Snow Queen's ankles. She crashed onto her back, cracking her head against her own ice and getting the wind knocked right out of her. Flynn scrambled to his feet and began slip-sliding his way towards the stairwell access; his only opportunity to get away would be while she was still dazed.

The Snow Queen finally succeeded in sucking air back into her lungs just as she heard a door crash open. She struggled her way upright, ignoring the dizziness caused by her fall, and staggered towards the stairwell door, still open and swinging in the breeze. Inside, she leaned over the railing, only to see very brief flashes of Flynn moving side-to-side and steadily downwards. It took her a second to realize that he was forgoing the usual way of traversing stairs, and was instead vaulting directly from flight to flight. The Snow Queen raised her right hand, but in the narrow stairwell, each flight blocked the one below it – she had no way to block her quarry, unless she were to try hitting him directly in the brief half-second that he appeared between levels, and _that_ she was not willing to do, not even to a scumbag like Flynn Rider. She growled in frustration, then took off down the steps two at a time.

Several stories below, Flynn spotted a "1st Floor" sign on the wall and leaped the last few steps to the landing. He rushed through the door and found himself traveling through the rather dingy lobby of an apartment building. Ignoring the raised eyebrows of the surly guy manning the counter, he passed through the front doors into a slightly wider and cleaner alleyway than the ones he'd led the Stabbington brothers into. To his left, the alley branched off and became part of the maze again; to his right, it opened onto a busy street a few blocks down. Flynn hesitated; he could easily disappear into the labyrinth of alleyways again, but the Snow Queen would surely expect him to go that way, and if she managed to find him again in those narrow corridors, a few well-placed walls of ice would be more than sufficient to trap him. There was also a small chance that he might run back into the ladies from Heroes United in there, or possibly even the police, but the way his luck was going today, he had a nasty feeling that those odds would betray him. On the other hand, the street was more exposed than he'd like, but he could get lost in the crowd…

Not even a second after Flynn made his decision and passed out of view of the lobby, the Snow Queen burst through the stair doors, breathing hard. The doorman's eyes threatened to pop right out of his orbital sockets as the masked woman marched up to the counter, pinned him with an icy blue glare, and demanded, " _Which way did he go?_ "

...

Flynn cursed silently as he weaved his way through the swarm of pedestrians; thanks to Madam Hooker Boots, he'd been chased all the way back to the same street that he'd originally entered the alleyways from, and he was even a few blocks further south. So much lost ground – and wasted energy! A few people did a double-take as he passed them, but he moved on too fast for them to definitively identify him (or so he hoped). Flynn maneuvered toward the edge of the sidewalk, casually glancing inside the parked cars lined up there on the off chance that one might have been left carelessly unlocked. A busy road was not the ideal location for grand theft auto, but at this point, traveling by car was quickly becoming Flynn's best option – he'd be able to move through the city faster, and he'd be mostly shielded from both prying eyes and the attacks of meddling supers.

Someone behind him shrieked. With a sinking feeling in his gut, he turned to see people about a block behind him hastily making way for a very familiar head of white-blonde hair. Flynn swore out loud and doubled his pace. He didn't even slow down at the next crosswalk, though it was occupied by moving traffic at that particular moment – he simply ran out between the cars, hood-sliding across one that hadn't been able to stop quickly enough. Leaving a discordant chorus of honks behind him, Flynn continued down the next block… and came to a dead stop as he spotted an entire pack of patrol cars parked up ahead.

Heart hammering, Flynn was just about to try car-surfing his way across the street again, when he realized that the police cruisers were gathered haphazardly in front of the very alley that he and the Stabbingtons had escaped down, lights still flashing and doors left hanging open from when the boys in blue had rushed out of them to pursue three suspects into the alleyways. _Empty!_ Flynn grinned, hardly daring to believe his luck; what better way to escape both police and vigilantes than with an official law enforcement vehicle? This was going to be nothing short of legendary.

As traffic back at the intersection screeched to a halt once again to let the Snow Queen pass (they didn't dare honk at _her_ ), Flynn squeezed his way through the small crowd that had congregated curiously around the patrol cars and made a beeline for the one with his own boot-prints on the hood. He flashed a smirk at the flabbergasted onlookers as he slid nonchalantly into the driver's seat of Lieutenant Oberlipp's own vehicle and closed the door behind him.

The effect of such audacity was thoroughly ruined when a loud snarling noise erupted right behind Flynn's right ear, causing him to let out a somewhat-less-than-manly scream and literally hit the ceiling of the car. He whipped around, was greeted by the sight of exceedingly long sharp teeth, screamed again, and instinctively reared back, wedging himself between the door and the steering wheel.

 _Why the %#! & does the Lieutenant have a rabid dog in his car?!_ Flynn thought wildly. Then he saw that the white shepherd was wearing a K-9 jacket, and realized it was _supposed_ to be that vicious. He also solved the mystery of how his head was still safely attached to his shoulders; there was a metal grille between the front and back seats of the vehicle, which the beast was trying its damnedest to claw and bite its way through, all the while snarling ferociously.

" _Seriously?!_ I can't catch a break today!" Flynn shouted. Through the passenger-side window, he caught sight of the crowd parting, revealing the Snow Queen. Her eyes bugged out as she caught sight of where he was sitting, and Flynn would have bet good money that her jaw had dropped under that mask.

"Looks like you're coming with, fleabag," Flynn said, swinging back into the driver's seat. As he turned the keys in the ignition, the Snow Queen unfroze and raced towards the car. He threw the cruiser into reverse and shot backwards without even bothering to look behind him; the back bumper hit another car on the front passenger side, and the dog was knocked off the grille and to the floor. Flynn hauled the gear shift into drive, flattened the gas pedal, and screeched away, leaving the Snow Queen coughing and gagging in the cloud of smoke and exhaust he left behind.

As he wove between the other cars, Flynn started hitting every button he could find on the dashboard. "Where is…? _There_ we go!" he said as he finally got the siren going. Not realizing that he was not on legitimate police business, traffic parted like the Red Sea before Moses, and Flynn started pushing the cruiser faster and faster.

"Heh, this is actually a lot of fun," he mused aloud. "No wonder the boys in blue are always screaming around town in these things."

He glanced in the rearview mirror as the snarling started up behind his head again. "Yeesh, what are you – part direwolf?"

" _Arr-nyarr-nyarr_!" replied the dog, trying to gnaw through the grille again. Behind its pointy-eared head, through the rear window, Flynn could see something flashing.

"What…?" He squinted at the mirror. After a few seconds, his eyes widened as he figured out what was causing the flash. "Oh, _hell no!_ "

A few blocks behind the commandeered police car, and about as many stories up, the Snow Queen was creating an ice bridge across the sides of the buildings with one hand, and propelling herself along by shooting icy blasts of wind out of the other. The speed at which she was traveling was actually making her incredibly nervous, but she didn't see that she had much of a choice if she was going to catch Flynn Rider.

"You think you're _so clever_ , don't you, using other people as human shields?" she muttered. "Is there anything you won't stoop to? You'll slip eventually – all I need _one opening_ , and you're mine!"

Down in the patrol car, Flynn flattened the gas pedal against the floor. "Okay, Queenie – let's see _exactly_ how fast you can travel that way!"

...

 _A good ten minutes later, somewhere in northeast Kingston –_

" _What do I have to do to get rid of this woman?_ " Flynn cried.

The police dog growled at him from the back seat. It had given up on forcing its way through the grille after it had ripped a couple claws off and its gums started bleeding, and now it seemed to have settled for trying to strike Flynn dead with the power of its glare alone.

"Of course, it _might_ help if this stupid city didn't have such god-awful traffic," Flynn grumbled. "I have a freakin' _siren_ , people – get out of my way!"

Up on her ice ramp, the Snow Queen's face was splattered with bug guts, her hair was coming half out of its braid, and her arms were trembling. "Where's the traffic jam in this stupid city when you need one?" she groaned. "I don't know how much longer I can keep this up… God, I can't catch one lousy criminal, but I can cover an entire city in four feet of snow –" Her eyes widened. " _Right_. New plan." She coasted to a stop, and raised her aching arms.

The temperature plummeted, and a veritable tidal wave of snow swept over the street below. Both Flynn and the dog yelped as the cruiser spun out of control – it ricocheted off another unfortunate vehicle and ploughed into a drift, throwing both occupants around like rag dolls before finally slamming to a halt. Flynn groaned, gingerly feeling for any bumps on his forehead that the steering wheel might have left behind. "Goddamn ice witch…" The dog, now looking rather cross-eyed, groaned back at him.

Flynn shook his head and blinked rapidly, trying to re-focus his sudden case of double-vision. A pair of dark shapes outside the driver's-side window slowly merged, and resolved themselves into the Snow Queen striding toward the car. Flynn was dazed and temporarily out of ideas; he could only watch as she walked up to his door, reached for the handle, and –

 _Ka-chunk_.

The thief and the ice witch blinked at each other, then looked down at the door. It was locked; and despite the disbelieving Snow Queen yanking on the handle a few more times, it _stayed_ locked. Flynn burst out laughing – of all the things to finally trip her up! The Snow Queen scowled at him through the window and jabbed a finger insistently at the lock. He responded by showing her _his_ finger. She let out a yell of frustration and swung her arms over her head and back down at the ground, rows of icicles springing up around her; Flynn only laughed harder. Running her hands over her hair, the Snow Queen paced a short distance away, then turned back to stare thoughtfully at the car with her arms akimbo while Flynn made a show of leaning back in his seat with his arms folded behind his head and his feet up on the dashboard.

The Snow Queen's gaze dropped to the icicles she'd left by the cruiser. She narrowed her eyes and raised her hand, and that insufferably smug grin dropped right off Flynn's face as a new set of icicles pierced the door seam and started wedging it open. The dog pinned its ears back, snarling and barking wildly at the door as it buckled and squealed in protest.

"You're on your own, mutt!" Flynn said, sliding over to the passenger side and letting himself out the other door. For what felt like the hundredth time that day, he took off running, and the Snow Queen followed.

He made for an alleyway, with no other strategy in mind than to get good old asphalt under his feet again. As he entered, his eyes fell on an old-school metal trash can; he snatched up the lid, then whipped around and flung it Frisbee-style at the Snow Queen. She barely got a shield up in time, but wasn't able to check her own momentum, and both she and the trash can lid bounced off the ice almost simultaneously. She scrambled back to her feet, cursing as she saw that Rider had wasted no time in gaining precious ground – he had already reached the street at the other end of the alley.

Flynn exploded onto the road, heedless of all pedestrians and vehicles that only just avoided colliding with him. Upon reaching the other side, he turned to run along the sidewalk, turning his head slightly to check that the Snow Queen was still following; he glimpsed her now rather crazy-looking towhead coming out of the alleyway and diving into traffic after him. He set his jaw and kept to his course. He now knew what he had to do to get the Snow Queen off his tail – he couldn't evade her, and he couldn't outrun her, which meant the only option left was to _take her out_. All he had to do was maneuver her into a position where he could get the jump on her.

As he raced up one street after another, making sharp turns at random and weaving between both cars and people, Flynn searched for a good spot to make his move. An alleyway corner or dumpster, perhaps? Too easy for her to trap him before he could even get that far – there was a reason he was sticking to the more open and populated streets. Could he pop out at her from behind a car? Too exposed for his liking, and too many variables with so many people around; same problem with luring her inside a building. He'd have only one shot at knocking out the Snow Queen, so the location he picked had to be as close to foolproof as he could get. He needed to find something soon, too, before she dumped six feet of snow on him again. So far, the only thing that had served to shield him and slow the ice witch down any appreciable amount had been that stairwell… _of course!_ The access on the roof! Flynn scanned the street signs as he reached another intersection; if he remembered correctly, there was a tenement building a few blocks south on the next street over.

He launched into a full-out run – at this point, the more space he could put between himself and the Snow Queen, the better. As Flynn threaded through the crowds, he kicked up and off cars and walls and all sorts of other objects, bypassing all obstacles in his path without once having to slow down. At long last, he skidded to a halt at the tenement's front door. Here, he paused briefly to check on the Snow Queen one last time; she was nearly a full block behind him.

Flynn let himself into the building, leaving the door open for good measure, and bolted across the lobby into the stairwell. Once again, he didn't bother with the actual steps – he just clambered straight up the railings. Flynn managed to travel up several floors this way before he heard the ground floor door crash open, taking that as his cue to get off the rails and switch to traversing the stairs three at a time and vaulting the corners.

As Flynn Rider barreled ever higher towards the roof, the Snow Queen was fervently wishing that whoever had invented stairs had gone to Hell after they died. Her face was bright red underneath all the bug guts, her lungs and throat were on fire, and she hurt all over – she wanted nothing more than to just lay down and die in peace, but she was determined to catch that thief if it was the last thing she did (and at this rate, it would be!). The Snow Queen lunged up the steps two at a time, leaving patches of ice behind wherever she pulled on the metal railing. She looked up at the never-ending spiral of flights despairingly; could she turn the stairs into a ramp and slide her way up? It would certainly be easier, but she wasn't certain how fast she could take all those tight corners without breaking her neck – or throwing up. Far above her head, the Snow Queen heard the echoes of a door opening and closing, and realized that she didn't have a choice.

Flynn pressed his back against the stairway door as he performed a quick scan of the rooftop. There was the roof of the stairwell access itself, a large air duct to his left… He heard a soft noise off to his right, but it only turned out to be some kind of reptile perched on a cluster of piping. "Okay," Flynn said with a slightly breathless chuckle, "the old "drop on her head puma-style" trick it is." He took one step off the door –

And was promptly flattened beneath it as the Snow Queen burst through in a flurry of snow and icicles. She looked wildly around the seemingly-empty rooftop. "No! Where are you?" She heard a groan, and glanced down to see one of Flynn Rider's hands sticking out from underneath the door that she was currently standing on. "Oh!" she cried in surprise. Then – " _Oh!_ " She'd done it – she'd actually caught him! A small, breathless laugh escaped her, but then she collected herself and put her hands on her hips. "All right, Rider – slide that man-bag out, nice and slow."

The door shifted beneath her feet, causing her to wobble a bit, and Flynn's hand was dragged out of sight. "Okay… that's it," came a muffled grunt. "I've had it."

The Snow Queen's blue eyes gleamed with triumph. One split second later, both she and the door were suddenly flung aside. Lying slightly stunned on the asphalt, she looked up to see Flynn Rider coming at her – face scraped, nose bleeding, eyes blazing with pure hatred. " _Now I'm pissed,_ " he growled. He cocked a fist, and swung it straight at her face.

The Snow Queen reflexively threw up her hands; to her surprise as much as Flynn's, a sheet of ice formed over her palms, and the thief's knuckles collided against it with a cringe-inducing _crack_.

"Gah!" Flynn yelped, leaping away and shaking his hand. " _Mother of_ –!"

The Snow Queen scrambled to her feet, skittering away from Flynn, who was still hopping around in the throes of agony, and holding her new shield in front of her nose. "Rider," she addressed him, trying not to sound as shaken as she actually felt, "Don't be stupid. You don't want to fight me – it won't end well."

An ugly laugh came out of the still-writhing Flynn. "Do you really think I'm just going to roll over and give myself up, Queenie? Just because of a little ice?"

"This is suicidal – I _told_ you I've been going easy on you! If you just hand over the man-bag –"

"Let's get our definitions straight here," Flynn interrupted, shaking his hand out one last time and rounding on the Snow Queen once again. " _This_ –" he laid a hand on the leather bag swinging by his hip, "– is a _satchel_. _I_ am the guy who's leaving town with it, and _you_ ," he pointed at her, "are _dead meat_."

"I'm serious, Rider!" The Snow Queen was all but shouting at this point. " _Don't make me hurt you!_ "

Flynn didn't listen. The Snow Queen lifted her shield again as he charged at her, but he grabbed it and used it to throw her back to the ground. She rolled, barely avoiding the axe kick directed at her head. The Snow Queen threw up a barrier of icicles as Flynn came after her, giving him pause just long enough for her to get back to her feet. She raised her hands, and her opponent glared at her warily. The two combatants circled slowly, each carefully considering their next move. The Snow Queen raised two slabs of ice and tried to sandwich Flynn between them, but he wriggled away. He zigzagged back towards her – every time she tried to place an obstacle in his path, she found that he was already somewhere else. Her heart leaped into her throat as he materialized directly in front of her, and she flinched back, lifting her hands to block her face again; this time, however, Flynn was aiming at her stomach. Since the Snow Queen was already moving backwards, it wasn't as debilitating a blow as he had intended, but she still got the breath knocked out of her a little. Choosing to ignore the fact that the Snow Queen's forced exhalation had covered the front of his vest with a light dusting of frost, Flynn swept her legs out from under her. She instinctively grabbed for the nearest object as she fell, and Flynn only just caught the strap of his satchel as she dragged it off his shoulder.

He exchanged a surprised look with the Snow Queen, whom he had inadvertently prevented from falling all the way to the asphalt when he grabbed his satchel. Flynn tried to yank it away, but she held on, and serendipitously found herself pulled back to her feet. The Snow Queen planted one boot in Flynn's abdomen and pulled back on the satchel with all her might, and thus the epic battle devolved into a petty game of tug-o'-war.

"Let go!" The Snow Queen grunted at Flynn.

" _You_ let go!" Flynn retorted, hauling on the beleaguered satchel. "I stole that necklace fair and square!"

"You have no right to it!"

"Possession is nine-tenths of the law!"

"That doesn't apply to depraved thieves with man-purses!"

"For the last time, _it is a_ –"

 _Klong!_

Flynn slumped insensate to the ground, and the Snow Queen tumbled backwards, now in sole possession of the ambiguously-termed bag. She had no time to savor the victory, however, as _something_ swooped down on her, and everything went black.

* * *

 **Ack! Look at that – Anna made an appearance in the very first chapter! I'll be honest, I wasn't planning on that; I was originally going to have Flynn screw up the clean getaway by sassing a security guard, like he did in the movie, but then that whole scene with Anna and her scary morning hair and her inability to mentally process things before she's fully awake just popped into my brain, and I knew I had to use it.**

 **My sister was reading the flashback, and came up with a funny little what-if: It turns out that the nameless brunette was just making stuff up to try and seem more impressive, so the necklace is** _ **not**_ **in the solarium, and the Stabbingtons are NOT PLEASED, to put it mildly ("A** _ **very reliable source**_ **, huh?!"). How embarrassing (:} Luckily for Flynn, I am the one writing this instead of my sister, so instead of getting duped, caught, and thrown in jail in short order, he just gets traumatized by Anna's hair, chased all over town by irritated women, then clobbered with a door and a frying pan. Am I not merciful? He deserves worse, frankly – I feel like I spent half this chapter demonstrating just how overinflated his ego is.**

 **Just in case you were wondering, Elsa did not throw on thigh-high boots specifically to go confront a thief; in fact, she threw on a mask and jacket and kind of forgot about her footwear entirely. Otherwise, she probably would've slipped into something more practical. Why would she be wearing thigh-highs casually around the house? Don't ask me – I'm still trying to figure out why the movie showed her wearing a sparkly, off-the-shoulder dress slit up to her hip while living alone in a remote ice castle! Who was the beneficiary of** _ **that**_ **supposed to be – her own reflection? An imaginary boyfriend?** _ **Lost hikers**_ **?! She must have been** _ **very repressed**_ **during all those years locked in her bedroom…**

 **Last but not least, my apologies to any Snow White fans reading this, but she really is kind of a ditz. Sweet and cheerful as can be, but still a ditz. Did you know that in the original Grimm version of the tale, the queen made** _ **three**_ **attempts to kill Snow White while she was living with the dwarves,** _ **and she still kept taking gifts from strangers**_ **?**


	2. Arc 1: Chapter 2: Blonde Blackmailer

**I'm back! You may now commence the trembling and the cowering.**

 **I'm hoping to continue updating this fic once every calendar week, so… so far so good?**

 **Special thanks once again to my sister for allowing me to rope her into the beta role.**

 **If you are somehow under the impression that I own anything related to** _ **Tangled, Frozen,**_ **Disney, or any other subsidiaries or intellectual properties thereof, then I have a bridge to sell you.**

 **Rated "T" for psychological abuse, violence involving a frying pan, and Flynn inadvertently hitting on a minor.**

* * *

 **Arc 1 – All That Glitters**

 **Chapter 2**

 **Attack of the Blonde Blackmailer**

 _10 minutes B.B. (Before Blackout), back on the south side of Kingston –_

"Found them!" Snow White called to her teammates as she flew into the alley where they were holding the Stabbingtons. A gaggle of policemen trooped in behind her, all red in the face from an unfortunate combination of exertion, frustration, and embarrassment.

"We weren't lost!" growled a steaming Lieutenant Oberlipp.

"Of course not," Crystal smiled. Before Oberlipp could decide whether there had been any sarcasm in that reply, she gestured to the trussed-up, roughed-up twins sitting on the ground. "The Stabbington brothers are all yours now – your men can take them in for processing."

Oberlipp jerked his head at some of his officers; as they hurried over to haul the Stabbingtons to their feet and read them their rights, the Lieutenant turned a resentful glare on the superheroines. "I'll admit we were a little slowed down, due to the fact that we kept getting some _very interesting_ calls from the station. Apparently, not only did Flynn Rider give _you three_ the slip, he commandeered a vehicle and is probably halfway to the airport by now with that necklace!"

"In that case, we'd better get there before he does. I'll get the Flying Pumpkin back in the air," Crystal said, lifting a finger towards her ear-piece.

"One more thing you'd probably like to know," Lieutenant Oberlipp interjected. "We've been getting reports that the Snow Queen was on his tail."

" _She's_ back?" Dreamgirl spoke up. "What could she want with Rider?"

"I don't know, and I don't really care," Oberlipp groused. "I just want both those menaces off the streets."

"That explains the ice I kept seeing on the rooftops," said Snow White.

"Oh, no," Dreamgirl groaned. "Is she freezing the entire city again?"

"I don't think so," Snow White replied. "It looked more like a trail this time."

" _A trail?_ " Crystal exclaimed. "Well let's follow it! With any luck, she'll lead us straight to Flynn Rider."

"Follow us back to the cruisers – you can pick it up there," Lieutenant Oberlipp said curtly, waving at his officers to follow him back into the maze of alleyways with the Stabbingtons in tow. "I wanna be there when you catch up to the son of a &!%#$."

"Wait, what if the trail doesn't pass anywhere near the cruisers?" Crystal called after the Lieutenant. Oberlipp pretended not to hear her, but a thin young officer whose nametag said "Conli" doubled back.

"We know it does – Rider stole the Lieutenant's vehicle!" the young man hissed to the superheroines, who looked properly shocked at the news.

"No wonder he's in such a bad mood," Snow White said as Conli ran to catch up with his fellow officers.

Crystal leaned over to speak quietly in her shorter teammate's ear. "You'd better go with them, just to make sure they don't get lost again." Snow White nodded and lifted back into the air, and Crystal pressed a finger against her earpiece. "Autopilot: activate extraction mode."

…

 _Meanwhile, somewhere in northeast Kingston –_

People on the street kept turning to stare at the girl as she walked by. She didn't like it one bit – she was barely keeping herself from panicking as it was, and all these strangers (oh so many strangers!) were looking at her like they were trying to decide which condiments she would go best with. In truth, however, the passers-by were merely curious, for the girl was unusual in several respects: first of all, there was a bright green lizard riding on her shoulder; second, she kept talking to it; third, she was walking around an urban area completely barefoot; fourth, and most remarkable of all, her petite frame was nearly dwarfed by her own hair, which was long enough to brush against her calves and bright gold in color.

"Stay calm, Pascal," she murmured to the chameleon on her shoulder. "We'll find a nice quiet place to hide soon. Somewhere…" She scanned her surroundings again, her sense of desperation mounting. "There's just so many people – _everywhere!_ " They swarmed like ants over the sidewalks and filled all the buildings and cars, and any one of them could pounce on her at any moment. If there was some kind of unpopulated, private area where she wouldn't be molested, she had no idea where to start looking for it.

The girl skittered around one particularly large knot of people, and almost collided with a pile of furniture just sitting on the curb for no apparent reason. Most of the pieces looked pretty beat-up, but the item that caught her eye was a heavy cast-iron frying pan perched on the chipped coffee table, half-buried under a random assortment of equally chipped crockery. That might be a useful in a pinch… The girl glanced around uncertainly; nobody seemed to be guarding the clump of furniture.

"Do you think it could be a trap?" she whispered to Pascal.

She tensed as a heavy-set woman approached, but the lady ignored her and picked a forlorn-looking lamp out of the pile. She turned it from side to side, inspecting it with a skeptical eye and pursed lips, then apparently decided the lamp passed muster and walked off with it. The blonde girl watched her go with wide eyes; when no one stopped the woman, she tentatively approached the frying pan. She gingerly slid it out from under all the crockery, looked around one more time to see if anyone would confront her, and continued down the sidewalk. The solid weight of the pan in her hands comforted her a bit, but she seemed to be attracting more and more stares (most of the passers-by were coming to the conclusion that this strange girl could only be a rather confused hippie suffering from the munchies).

If only she had some idea of where to go – but the buildings blocked her view in every direction, all the streets looked the same, and none of the signs she encountered told her anything of use. "Now I know how you felt when I'd make mazes for you," she said to the chameleon. "I'm sorry, Pascal – I promise I'll never do that to you again!" The blonde caught sight of one structure a short distance ahead that was several levels taller than its neighbors, and it gave her an idea. "I'll bet you can see for miles from the top of that building. If we can see the whole maze at once, we can figure out what route to take."

She hurried over to the tall structure, and peered through the glass on the front door. "Huh, there's nobody inside!" She eyed the dark, shabby interior with trepidation. "There's probably a _reason_ for that – I don't like the look of that room. There's probably a masked man with a chainsaw or something hiding behind one of those doors. Maybe there's another way up…"

The girl padded away from the entrance, and peeked around the corner into the alley. The narrow corridors between buildings were another thing she'd decided were probably unsafe upon noticing how conscientiously her fellow pedestrians avoided them, and how some of them contained packs of brutish-looking individuals skulking in the shadows. The alleyway she was currently scrutinizing, however, seemed to be quiet and unoccupied.

"Well, I don't see any ruffians… and we should be able to see or hear anyone coming after us in there, right?" the girl said nervously to her reptile companion. She took a deep breath. "Okay, here we go. Keep a sharp lookout." She crept slowly and cautiously into the alley, frying pan at the ready. This time, those who took notice of her assumed that she was stalking a rat or some other species of vermin, a common enough activity in that part of the city (though doing it without shoes was just asking for a disease).

The girl reached the next corner without incident; after pausing a few seconds to listen for any suspicious noises, she poked her head into the cross-alley. Still no sign of skulking brutes, or any other source of potential danger, but there was indeed an alternate stairway on the back of the building. A small smile of relief crossed her face. "Perfect. And look, Pascal – it doesn't go all the way down to the ground, so it'll be difficult for anybody to follow us up."

It would be no difficulty at all for _her_ , though. The girl moved to stand below the fire escape, and then something happened that would have _really_ caused a sensation had there been any witnesses this time: tendrils of her long hair _moved on their own_ , twining around the handle of the frying pan and the belly of the chameleon. She gathered the remainder of her hair in her hands and tossed it upwards; it extended over twenty-five feet, looping itself around the railing of the bottom landing. The girl shimmied up her own tresses like a rope and hauled herself onto the fire escape. She turned to ascend the stairs and yelped as she was nearly yanked off her feet – the frying pan, still wound up in her hair, had gotten caught in the railing.

"I hate it when that happens," she huffed as she reached over to unhook the pan.

…

Many flights of steps later, girl, chameleon, and frying pan all arrived safely at the roof. As she took her first look around from this new perspective, the blonde's mouth fell open and her eyes grew to the size of dinner plates. She drifted distractedly towards the middle of the rooftop, her mind completely absorbed in trying to comprehend the sheer vastness of the surrounding cityscape – nothing but buildings and more buildings as far as the eye could see. She turned round and round in circles, despair suffusing her face as she tried and failed to find any way out of the madness she had found herself in. Finally, she wailed in frustration and threw herself on the ground, incidentally dislodging the chameleon.

"It's _useless_!" the girl cried, voice muffled against the asphalt. The lizard cast an irritated look at her out of one eye. "What was I _thinking_ , Pascal? I can't make it out in the world by myself! Mother was right, I'm not strong or smart or confident enough to survive out here. Should I just –? No, I can't go back. Can I? No, not after…" Her voice trailed off. She brought her arms up to cradle her head and started to cry. "I don't know what to do… I don't know what to _do_. Everything's gone so wrong."

…

" _I have a surprise for you!" the girl's mother sing-songed._

 _The petite blonde smiled, slightly confused. "But my birthday's not for two more days_. _"_

" _Yes, and in honor of the occasion…" The older woman paused for effect, then threw her arms out theatrically. "…we're taking a trip! Surprise!"_

 _The girl stared slack-jawed and speechless at her mother, unable to believe what she was hearing._

 _Mother huffed and crossed her arms. "Don't make that face, Rapunzel – it makes you look unintelligent."_

 _Rapunzel stammered, trying to formulate a response. "I – I get to go with you this time? Out_ there? _"_

" _Yes, dear – there are some_ very important people _who would like to meet you." Catching sight of her daughter's expression, the mother added, "Oh, don't worry about these ones, darling. They're very powerful, and if you impress them, they'll take excellent care of us."_

" _Impress them how?" Rapunzel asked nervously._

" _Oh, they'll just have a few tests for you, that's all," Mother replied, waving a hand dismissively. "Nothing to worry your silly little head about. Now –" She produced a small rolling suitcase. "– go pack this with your essentials, and a few books or maybe pencils and paper, so you can do some of your doodling on the plane."_

" _Plane?" Rapunzel asked in surprise. "Didn't you say those were dangerous?"_

" _This one is much safer than ordinary planes. Nice and private too – it'll be just you, me, and a pilot on board. The people we're meeting are rather far away, so we have to fly to them. We're leaving here at exactly six-thirty tomorrow morning, so go pack. And_ please _don't bring any of your paints, they'll just make a mess."_

 _Rapunzel hesitated, biting her lip._

" _Darling, what part of this are you not understanding?" her mother said impatiently._

" _No, I understand, it's just…" The girl fiddled anxiously with her hair. "Since we're taking this trip, could we – I've actually been wanting to ask you this for a long time now – if it's not too far from where we're going – what I would really,_ really _like for my birthday is –"_

 _Mother cut her off. "Rapunzel, how many times have I told you not to babble when you speak? It's very annoying – 'blah, blah blah, blah blah…'"_

" _I want to go see the lights on my birthday!" Rapunzel burst out. "Please," she added when her mother stared at her with raised eyebrows._

" _What on earth are you talking about?" the older woman asked in bewilderment._

" _Every year, for as long as I can remember, these lights have appeared in the eastern sky as soon as it gets dark enough. They kinda burst outwards and then fade away, and they're all different colors, and they make a noise like thunder, and they only ever come out on my birthday. Well, they come on July 4_ _th_ _too, but the ones on my birthday feel more special." Rapunzel clasped her hands and gazed at her mother beseechingly. "I've always wanted to see them up close –_ please _can we go this year?"_

" _No, we cannot," Mother said firmly. "We're meeting the people I told you about on your birthday, and we will be very far away from your… lights." Rapunzel's shoulders slumped, and her mother added, "You don't really want to go see them anyway, dear. They're just horrendously noisy, dangerous explosions set off by simple-minded brutes who think that making things go "boom" is amusing. You wouldn't like it at all."_

" _Oh," the girl replied in a small voice. "Okay. I'll just start packing, then."_

" _There's a good girl," the mother said as her daughter turned to go upstairs. "Oh, I almost forgot – one last thing, Rapunzel." The older woman put her hands on the girl's shoulders and looked her sternly in the eye. "To get to the plane tomorrow, we're going to have to travel among other people."_

 _Rapunzel's green eyes grew huge. "Are there going to be ruffians? Or muggers? Masked men with chainsaws?_ Supers? _"_

" _Quite possibly. But if you stay by my side_ at all times, _and don't speak to anyone else or make eye contact with them, then I can keep you safe. And if I tell you to do something, you need to follow my instructions_ exactly _, with no questions asked. Do you understand, Rapunzel?"_

" _Yes, Mother."_

…

Rapunzel felt tiny chameleon feet on her elbow. She raised her head, still sniffling, to see that Pascal had turned blue and was gazing questioningly at her with both eyes.

"What's going to happen to us, Pascal?" she whispered. The chameleon only continued to stare at her.

The girl sighed and sat up, wiping at her eyes and nose. She took another look around the rooftop, anxiously eyeballing the doorway that presumably led down inside the building, but nothing nasty jumped out of it. Other than that, the only other objects on the roof were an air duct and an assortment of gigantic pipes.

"Well, we may as well hide out here for a while," she said, scooping up her pet and her frying pan. "Hopefully no one will bother us up here. Let's go behind those pipes, though, just in case."

She settled down cross-legged in the tiny space between the piping and the lip of the roof. Pascal scuttled onto the topmost pipe and got down to the serious reptilian business of sunbathing, turning a happy golden color. Rapunzel absently played with a lock of her hair, lost in her own thoughts. For a few moments, all was peaceful. Then the blonde girl became aware of a rhythmic noise, faint at first, but quickly growing louder. She looked around for the source in confusion; then she realized, with a cold, sinking feeling in her gut, that it was the sound of footsteps rapidly ascending stairs.

That door that she had viewed with such foreboding slammed open, and Rapunzel threw herself flat behind the pipes. She cautiously peeked upwards, dreading the possibility that she might find someone looming over the piping at her, but instead gasped in alarm as she realized that Pascal was still exposed. She hissed his name as softly as she could, then mentally kicked herself – Pascal didn't have ears! He sensed vibrations instead, and there was no way he'd registered her very slight disturbance of the air. In her panic, however, she had instinctively called to him and risked drawing the attention of whatever foul-intentioned creature had barged onto the rooftop.

Rapunzel froze, heart skipping several beats, as she heard a distinctly masculine voice laugh softly and say, "Okay, the old "drop on her head puma-style" trick it is." The blonde was paralyzed with terror – he _had_ heard her! And now he was going to pounce on her head!

 _Crash!_

Rapunzel squeaked and curled into a tight ball. Instead of being descended upon by a maniacally-laughing madman, however, she heard a second voice speaking, female this time, followed by a pained groan from the male. She warily unfolded herself and peeked through a narrow gap in the piping. Worse and worse still – now there was a wild-looking masked woman on the roof, standing in an attitude that suggested that the man was currently lying helpless at her feet. Rapunzel silently cursed her atrocious luck; people in masks were the most dangerous kind.

"All right, Rider," the woman was saying imperiously. "Slide that man-bag out, nice and slow."

Rapunzel heard the man mumble a reply, and she watched aghast as the masked lady suddenly went flying (was that the _door_ that went with her?) and the male jumped up and moved in for the kill. She braced herself for the carnage that was certain to ensue, but there was a sharp crack, and the masked woman reappeared, now holding some kind of clear shield, while the man hopped around cursing loudly. The woman warned her opponent to surrender without a fight or risk serious bodily harm, which surprised the girl hiding behind the pipes – people in masks were supposed to revel in the pain and fear of others, but this one sounded rather reluctant. The male made it clear he had no intention of submitting, proclaiming that not only would he win the much-contested bag, but the masked woman would also become his next meal. Rapunzel shuddered; she had to get herself and Pascal away from this place before they became unwilling witnesses to – and possibly the second course of – a cannibalistic feast. Her eyes grew big as the two strangers joined battle once again, the male relying on simple strength and agility while the female (who was apparently one of the dreaded supers) countered with ice constructs created out of thin air.

Rapunzel realized that her best chance to escape would be while the intruders were fixated on each other and snaked a tendril of hair towards Pascal. The chameleon, which had turned black around the same time that the masked woman had arrived, jumped away from the serpentine thing that was attempting to sneak up behind him and hissed.

"Come on, Pascal, _please_ …" Rapunzel whispered. She glanced back at the intruders to check that they were still preoccupied just as one of the masked woman's icy blasts went wild, striking the pipes and sending one very unhappy chameleon flying.

Something inside the girl snapped; Pascal was her only friend in the whole world, and she wouldn't allow _any_ harm to come to him, no matter how violent and terrifying the source. Before she could second-guess herself, she snatched up her frying pan and leaped over the piping. The strangers were locked in an intense struggle over the bag, and failed to notice as a wild-eyed, desperate third party darted up behind the man and swung a pan at his head; he collapsed, and Rapunzel jumped over him to deliver a second blow upon the super as she spilled backward onto the ground.

The blonde stood over her fallen foes, breathing heavily and still holding the frying pan at the ready. Several seconds ticked by, and neither man nor woman so much as twitched; Rapunzel took a deep breath… then squealed and ran back to the pipes, hopping on top of them in much the same way as a woman living in Victorian times might have leaped onto a chair when confronted with a mouse. She stared at the erstwhile intruders, not quite able to process what she had just done. A furious hissing caught her attention, and she looked down past her feet to find a jet-black chameleon telling the unconscious strangers _exactly_ what he thought of them.

" _Pascal!_ " Rapunzel gasped, throwing herself to the ground and scooping up her beloved pet. "Are you hurt? Are you traumatized?"

Pascal continued swearing a blue streak in chameleon-ese.

"Oh, you _are_ traumatized, poor little guy… Don't worry, they won't hurt you anymore – I knocked them out." Rapunzel sat straight up, eyes unfocused. "I knocked them out." She repeated slowly. Then she gasped, an incredulous smile spreading over her face. " _I knocked them out!_ Me! All by myself! Look, Pascal, see what I did!" she squealed, jumping to her feet and rushing back over to the man and the masked woman to give her chameleon a better view of her handiwork. Pascal was in no mood to observe and admire, however – he ran up Rapunzel's arm and hid in her hair. She was too giddy to feel affronted.

"Not tough enough to handle myself out in the big bad world, she said," Rapunzel laughed, striding back to her temporarily discarded frying pan with her thin chest puffed out. "Well!" She picked the pan up and flicked some nonexistent particles of dust off of it, then twirled it around jauntily. "Tell _that_ to my frying – _ouch!_ " Maybe a little _too_ jauntily; she'd spun it right into her own temple.

As she rubbed her throbbing brow bone, the blonde's eyes drifted back to the limp heap that she and her frying pan had left behind. She tiptoed closer, curiosity winning out over fear; she circled wide around the man and the masked woman, instead approaching the leather bag still looped loosely around the latter's outstretched hand.

"Why were they fighting over _this?_ " she wondered aloud. "What's so special about it?"

Rapunzel gingerly pulled the bag free and opened the flap. The sunlight flashed off the uppermost object inside, nearly blinding her. She drew the thing out, and saw it was a bejeweled gold necklace.

" _Pretty,_ " she breathed, holding it aloft and turning it from side to side to watch the light dance on the gems. Then she placed it back in the bag and continued rifling through the contents, most of which were quite mundane compared to the necklace: an assortment of snack foods, some tightly wadded-up clothes, a toothbrush, a flip phone, a flashlight, a coil of thin rope, and a book called _The Count of Monte Cristo_ hidden in an inside pocket.

"It had to have been either the necklace or the snacks," Rapunzel decided.

Not knowing what else to do with it, she leaned down to put the bag back in its original spot, and found herself staring at the super's hand. Rapunzel's eyes flicked uncertainly to her face; her eyes were still closed, and there was a sizeable goose-egg forming at her hairline where the frying pan had struck. Pascal poked his head out of his mistress's hair and hissed again when he saw the masked woman.

"I know, I know," Rapunzel said. "But… I've never seen a real super for myself before." She reached slowly for that pale, limp hand. "How do you think she makes that ice?"

Pascal withdrew back into the curtain of golden hair – curiosity may have killed cats, but never a chameleon. Rapunzel flinched a bit as she lightly touched the woman's fingers, but when nothing unpleasant resulted from the contact, she felt secure enough to drop to her knees and pick up the hand to examine it more closely.

"Hmm, no unusual organs or openings," she murmured. "In fact, it's actually a very pretty hand – her nails are perfect. You'd never think these were the hands of a monster… no talons or anything."

Emboldened by her new discoveries and the strangers' unresponsiveness, Rapunzel decided to inspect the masked woman further. She leaned in to peer more closely at what little could be seen of the super's features above the mask.

"Why is her face smeared with bugs?" the blonde asked in bewilderment.

She reached cautiously for the mask itself, plucking experimentally at the edge. Once again, no dire consequences transpired, so she pulled it completely over the woman's head, exposing the entirety of her face. Rapunzel didn't know exactly what she had been expecting, but it wasn't _this_ ; without the mask, the super looked quite a bit younger and more vulnerable. Rapunzel frowned and pushed the unconscious woman's ( _girl's?_ ) lip up.

"No pointy teeth either!" Rapunzel exclaimed, beginning to feel inexplicably affronted. She thoughtfully shifted her gaze to the man lying by the super's feet. "I'll bet _his_ teeth are sharp – all the better to eat girls with!"

She laid the mask on its owner's chest, then shifted herself towards the male. His face was turned to the side and partially covered by his hair. Rapunzel's heart stuttered a bit when she spotted blood around his mouth, but closer inspection revealed that the source was the man's own nose. The blonde took the frying pan from under her arm and gave the male a good hard poke with it, but like the masked woman, he remained unresponsive. Rapunzel lifted his upper lip, and was utterly shocked to discover that he, too, lacked pointy teeth. He did, however, have a funny little patch of hair on his chin, which she stroked curiously with her index finger; it was coarse in texture, and just a little bit tickly. The feel of it induced an unsettling sensation in the pit of her stomach that she reasoned must be revulsion. Rapunzel concluded her examination by flicking the man's hair off his face to get a better view of the whole. His features were straight and strong, and not unpleasing to Rapunzel's artistic eye, though they were somewhat marred by the remnants of the nosebleed, some scrapes, and a bruise on his forehead.

Rapunzel sat back on her feet and exhaled. "Okay, I'm on a roof, I'm _lost,_ I've bludgeoned a super and a man who is probably a cannibal but doesn't have sharp teeth… Now what?"

Pascal, back to his normal shade of green, warily poked his head back into the open. When he saw that the girl _still_ hadn't left the ice-spewing intruders behind, he swiveled both eyes around to level an accusing glare at her.

"I _know,_ Pascal," Rapunzel said with a trace of exasperation. "But where are we even supposed to go from here? It's not like I can ask _these guys_ for directions!" She went still as a tremendous, inspired, stark raving mad, absolutely _terrible_ idea began forming in her mind. " _Or could I?_ No, that's crazy – they'd eat me alive. Although – _I'm_ the one who beat _them_ … They're not invincible, and _I'm_ not helpless, no matter _what_ Mother says. Yes – yes, I think I _could_ do it. I have the frying pan, and my hair…" Her gaze shifted to the leather bag, and she leaped up to retrieve it. "And I have _this,_ which I _know_ they want, and – yes, I'll take the super's mask too for good measure! I'd rather see her face when I talk to her, anyway." Her face set in determination, and Pascal got a Very Bad Feeling. "I'm gonna do it, Pascal; I'm gonna look these guys in the eye and tell them I'm not afraid and they'd better give me what I need. There's nowhere for me to run and nowhere to hide – so all that's left is to fight back."

…

"There – _that_ should do it," Rapunzel panted, stepping back to observe her handiwork. After some trial and error – and a lot of huffing and puffing and heaving and ho-ing – she'd found a way of trussing up her captives that she was reasonably confident would keep them almost totally immobilized. She'd threaded two sizeable hanks of her hair through the top railing of the fire escape, extended them across the alleyway and a couple of times around the drainpipe of the building opposite, doubled them back and around the railing once more, looped them around the sections spanning the alley, dropped them down and around the strangers' wrists, then spiraled the remainder down their bodies and ended with an ankle bind. After seeing how the super could summon ice, and the frosty encrustations she'd left behind on the man's vest and the strap of the bag, Rapunzel had taken the additional precaution of bundling up the woman's hands with a pair of shorts taken from the satchel.

Rapunzel lowered herself past the unconscious bodies dangling over the alleyway like flies in a spider's web and climbed onto the second landing down; here, she was at roughly eye-level with the man and the super. She withdrew her frying pan from the lock of hair it had been entwined in, hefting the cast-iron implement in both hands. "Ready, Pascal?" she asked, more for her own reassurance than his. Pascal, once again at his usual post on her shoulder, licked his left eye. Rapunzel chose to take that as an affirmative. She drew in a deep breath, then blew it back out. "Okay – here we go." And with that, she gave each of her captives a sharp jab in the chest with the frying pan.

Neither the man nor the woman so much as twitched. Rapunzel blinked, then repeated the application of the pan. "Wake up!" she said forcefully. Still no response.

Rapunzel huffed in exasperation. She walked up to the railing and reached out to flick the man in the face. When that didn't work either, she lightly slapped him, then directed a backhand at the super. This, too, failed to rouse the strangers; the blows from her frying pan seemed to have been a little _too_ effective.

Rapunzel took a couple steps back and put her hands on her hips, frowning at her insensate hostages. After some consideration, she extended two free locks of hair and tickled the strangers' ears – they snapped awake with a yelp from the male and a shriek from the woman, startling Rapunzel into diving behind the stairs.

For a few moments, the pair stared at the fire escape in front of them uncomprehendingly. Then they became aware that they were being suspended from their hands, and looked up. The man squinted in consternation at the unusual golden bindings, but the woman looked down, and promptly screamed.

" _Oh my God!_ " she gasped, curling her legs up.

"Wha – _oh,_ " the male said, following her wild-eyed gaze. This was not (unfortunately) the first time he'd found himself in such a position.

Upon hearing his voice, the super rounded on the man. " _What have you done?_ " she shouted.

"I didn't do – _whoa_." He'd begun to snap back a retort, but had recoiled upon seeing the woman's face – _all_ of it.

"What? What now?" the super cried.

The man shook his head. "Nothing – nothing at all. Uh," he cast about for a change of subject, and his gaze traveled upward once more. "Am I concussed, or does this stuff look kinda like _hair?_ "

"Who ties people up with _hair?_ "

Behind the stairs, Rapunzel collected herself and spoke up, trying to inject confidence into her tone. "Struggling is pointless." She rose and walked back into her captives' line of sight. "I know what you two are, and I'm not afraid," she told them, lifting her chin.

She had braced herself for insults, threats, and even attempts to attack, but the two strangers just looked befuddled. The woman was wondering how this apparent new super could possibly be reckless and/or stupid enough to try and make a capture without the protection of a mask, and why there was a lizard on her shoulder; the male's thoughts were simply repeating _pretty girl_ like a broken record.

"Now – I have questions I want answered," Rapunzel continued, raising her frying pan a little in hopes that the implied threat might make her captives more cooperative. "Let's start with your names."

"Uhhh…" the man stammered, trying to figure out exactly how he should handle this bizarre situation and still weirdly distracted by those enormous green eyes (which led him to conclude that he was most certainly concussed).

" _Our_ names?" the woman asked; surely this girl knew perfectly well who she was confronting.

"Yes," Rapunzel answered, enunciating in case the subjects of her interrogation were still a bit dazed. "What do I call you?"

"The Snow Queen," the woman replied, her tone and expression suggesting that this should have been a blatantly obvious answer.

Rapunzel didn't much appreciate that attitude. She turned to the male. "And you?"

He cleared his throat. Then he gave Rapunzel a big, cocky grin. " _Hi_."

Rapunzel tilted her head, thoroughly bewildered by that rather stupid-looking smile. The Snow Queen turned to stare at her fellow captive with a mixture of incredulity and disgust. Pascal licked his other eye.

"How ya doin'? The name's Flynn Rider," the man continued in an unctuous tone. "How's your day going?"

"You have _got_ to be kidding me," the Snow Queen said flatly.

Flynn jerked his head at the towheaded woman, his smile never slipping. "Ignore sourpuss over there – she's just jealous 'cause she's frigid."

From what Rapunzel had seen of the super's abilities, "frigid" was a pretty accurate term, but the Snow Queen seemed to take it as an insult. "I'll show _you_ frigid!" she spat at Flynn, beginning to struggle against her bindings.

" _No,_ you won't," Rapunzel said firmly, pointing her frying pan at the Snow Queen. "The both of you are going to _behave_ while I ask my questions. Understood?" She made sure to include Flynn Rider in the stern glare accompanying that statement. "Tell me why you were fighting before."

Seeing that the blonde girl refused to be charmed (and feeling rather put out about it), Flynn dropped the smile. "Okay, look, blondie –"

"Rapunzel," she corrected.

" _Of course,_ " Flynn and the Snow Queen said in unison.

Rapunzel was somewhat taken aback – was her name a common one? She shook her head a little, deciding it wasn't an issue worth getting sidetracked over. "Why were you trying to kill each other?" she repeated.

"Kill?" the Snow Queen said, looking affronted. "I wasn't trying to _kill_ anyone – what do you take me for?"

"I was just trying to get Frosty to quit chasing me," Flynn added.

Rapunzel eyed them uncertainly. "You… said she was going to be dead meat," she said to Flynn.

"Hey, if you'd been run all over town and had a $&!%-load of snow and ice thrown at you, you'd be a little cranky too," Flynn replied. "I don't plan on adding mask-killer to my rap sheet anytime soon, though – I like my head where it is."

"Small mercies," the Snow Queen said sardonically. "And dealing with you hasn't exactly been pleasant for me, either. If you don't like people chasing you, then maybe you should quit stealing." Both Flynn and the Snow Queen's eyes widened as they realized they'd forgotten something very important.

"Oh no – where is my satchel?" Flynn cried, looking around as if his precious bag might have fallen to the pavement below.

"You mean _this?_ " Rapunzel swung the satchel out from its hiding place beneath her hair, letting it rest against her hip. Both of her captives' gazes locked onto it as if guided by lasers.

"You _took_ it after you knocked us out?" the Snow Queen said incredulously.

Rapunzel raised her chin, unable to keep from smirking just a bit. "Yes I did." She looked so very _pleased_ with herself that Flynn had to fight a sudden, inexplicable urge to laugh.

The Snow Queen was not so amused. "Did you know that contains stolen property? I don't know what game you think you're playing, but you need to –"

"Are you working alone, blondie?" Flynn cut in. Both girls turned to him in surprise.

"What?" was all Rapunzel could think to say.

"You're obviously new around here, and – y'know – kinda _dainty_ , so I find it hard to believe that you took out both me and the Snow Queen and lifted a satchel that I've been busting my ass all morning to _keep_ all by yourself."

Rapunzel bristled. So Flynn found her unimpressive? That wouldn't do – she needed these people to take her seriously. She lifted the flap of the bag and drew out a piece of black cloth. "I _also_ took this!" she declared, holding the cloth out towards the Snow Queen.

Flynn winced and quietly groaned. The Snow Queen narrowed her eyes at the disturbingly familiar object. "Wait a second, is that –?" Her jaw dropped and her eyes grew to the size of saucers. " _You took my mask?!_ "

" _That_ was not a smart move, blondie," Flynn muttered, trying to edge away from the distraught Snow Queen as much as his restraints would allow.

The ambient temperature plummeted as the Snow Queen started hyperventilating. "My mask – why would you – oh God, _no_ –"

"Stop that!" Rapunzel shouted, brandishing her frying pan as icy encrustations began forming on the golden locks wrapped around the Snow Queen. Pascal disappeared into his owner's hair again.

" _What is_ wrong _with you?!_ " the Snow Queen shrieked.

Rapunzel swung her frying pan, and the panic-stricken super went limp. The blonde girl pushed her hair back from her face and exhaled heavily.

"Could've told you supers don't react well to that, babe," Flynn said, shaking his head. "But now that she's out, how about you and I discuss –"

Rapunzel hit him with the frying pan too, just so she could reevaluate things in peace. She plopped down on the stairs, and Pascal cautiously poked his head out of her hair. " _That_ went well," she sighed.

…

"Geez, look at this mess," Lieutenant Oberlipp said, gazing through the windshield at the street buried in mounds of snow on a warm, sunny day in June. "We'll have to go around." He leaned forward to peer up at the silvery helicopter flying overhead. "Can you see which way they're going from here, O'Hara?"

The officer driving the patrol car squinted. "Looks like they're circling… Still circling… Now they're hovering… Hey, I think they found something!"

The policemen could see the tiny figure of Crystal sliding down a rope out of the helicopter; Snow White was flying back towards the flock of police cruisers. She landed by the passenger side of the lead car and knocked on the Lieutenant's window.

"The ice and snow end here," she told him as he rolled down the window. "And we found your vehicle, Lieutenant – Crystal says there's a heat signature in the backseat."

"Just one?" Oberlipp asked with narrowed eyes.

"As far as she can tell, but we're proceeding with caution anyway." Snow White blinked as the Lieutenant cursed and hit the dashboard. "We don't even know who it is yet!"

"I know _exactly_ what it is," Oberlipp said, stepping out of the car. Snow White and the other officers followed as he plowed his way through the snow.

"So – Rider and the Snow Queen disappeared _again?_ " he said sourly as he approached the two superheroines clustered around the back door of his car.

Crystal held a gloved hand out to halt him. "Lieutenant, be careful where you step – we don't want to compromise any footprints they might have left behind. The rest of you, please stay over there for now."

"Is the dog yours?" Dreamgirl asked as Oberlipp cautiously picked his way over.

"Maximus belongs to the Kingston Police Department," the Lieutenant replied. "But I commandeered him from the K-9 unit because he's the best there is. Once we get him out of there, we won't need to follow footprints."

"We could use your help with that, actually," Crystal said, indicating the ferociously barking white shepherd trapped in the cruiser. "We recovered the keys, but we can't get him to calm down."

Oberlipp held out his hand, and Crystal dropped the keys into his palm. "Okay, Maximus, I'll have you out in a – _what the hell did those assholes do to my cruiser?!_ " he screamed as he got a good look at the front of the car, which was nose-deep in a snow drift and skewered by icicles. "That's it!" He growled, jamming the keys into the back door lock and releasing the only other living being in the vicinity that was as pissed off as he was. "Maximus – _hunt them down!_ "

The white shepherd growled as it shot towards the alley it had watched its quarry vanish into.

…

Flynn and the Snow Queen were rudely awakened for the second time by something slithering into their ears.

" _Will you stop that?_ " Flynn snapped, rubbing his ear against his shoulder.

Rapunzel ignored him; she held the frying pan mere centimeters from the Snow Queen's nose and gave the young woman the very sternest glare she could muster. "Listen very closely, _Snow Queen_ : the only way you are getting your mask back is if you do what I say and don't give me any more trouble – you're no use to me otherwise. If you try that freezing trick again, I will knock you out for good and deal exclusively with Flynn."

"I vote we skip straight to that last part," Flynn interrupted.

"Be quiet – I'm talking to _her_ ," Rapunzel replied, not so much as glancing at Flynn. "Do we have an agreement, Snow Queen?"

She kept her eyes locked on the Snow Queen's, refusing to show any signs of weakness or indecision. She had prepared herself for rage, hysterics, and last desperate counterattacks, but once again, the Snow Queen's actual reaction was totally unexpected – she just stared at Rapunzel, as if she was hoping to be told that this was all just a bad dream from which she would soon wake. Finally, the Snow Queen hung her head, her eyes closing and her entire body slumping against her bindings.

"What do you _want?_ " she muttered.

Rapunzel stepped back and lowered the frying pan. "I want to make a deal with you two."

"What kind of deal?" Flynn asked suspiciously. Ordinarily, he would have told the girl that he didn't make deals, but that little spiel she'd just given the Snow Queen made it clear that he'd have to go along with this insanity… for now.

"Tomorrow is June 21st, and every year on that exact date, strange lights appear in the east once night falls," Rapunzel explained. Flynn and the Snow Queen were giving her weird looks in which their eyebrows achieved hitherto unknown heights, but she chose to ignore them and pressed on. "They're like colorful explosions in the sky. I assume you know of what I speak?"

" _Fireworks?_ " the other two replied in unison. They answered her like she was very stupid for not knowing this already, but Rapunzel was too excited to finally have a name for the lights to care.

" _Fireworks,_ " she repeated reverentially, testing the taste and feel of the word on her tongue. It was, she decided, a sparking, crackling sort of word – a perfect descriptor for the lights. "I want to go to the place these "fireworks" come from," she continued. "You two will guide me there, and after the fireworks are over, I will give _you_ back your mask," here, she pointed at the Snow Queen with the frying pan, "and you both can fight over the bag to your hearts' content. _That_ is my deal."

"Let me get this straight," the Snow Queen said slowly. "You've hit us repeatedly with a frying pan, tied us up and hung us over an alley, and taken our things hostage _– because you want to go see a fireworks show?_ "

"Yes," Rapunzel nodded. Her captives stared at her in appalled disbelief.

"Oh my God, we've been captured by an escaped mental patient," said the Snow Queen.

"I can't believe I'm actually agreeing with the abominable snow witch, but you _are_ nuts, blondie," Flynn said. "I just _came_ from that place, and I left a lot of very angry people behind me. Now you want me to head _back_ into that mess just so you can see the pretty lights? _Not gonna happen_."

"Can't you just watch the fireworks from wherever it is you've seen them in previous years?" asked the exasperated Snow Queen.

"No!" Rapunzel cried. "I have to go see them at their source – I've been dreaming about it my entire life!"

"They're _fireworks!_ " Flynn exclaimed. "They're not that big a deal!"

"They are to me!"

" _Why?_ " asked the Snow Queen. "What is so important about them?"

"They're… I just… it's like…" Rapunzel babbled, gesturing vaguely. She'd never really thought about _why_ the fireworks held such a powerful attraction for her; all she knew was that the longing had always been there, constant as the sun. It might have had something to do with the fact that she'd lived her entire life shut up in a cabin, but she wasn't getting into _that_ with these people. "They come on my birthday," she finally settled on saying.

"Oh, it's your _birthday?_ " Flynn said in an over-exaggerated mockery of surprise. "Why didn't you say so? I had no idea – how _special!_ " He dropped the charade and returned to glaring at Rapunzel. "Still not happening."

Rapunzel was momentarily at a loss; she'd known that it would probably take a bit of coaxing to convince Flynn and the Snow Queen to strike a bargain with her, but she'd hadn't thought that it would be because they found her lifelong dream so trivial. She glanced at Pascal, who had turned a dark red and was keeping one glowering eye on each of the captives. Rapunzel set her jaw and turned back to Flynn and the Snow Queen – it was time to give her ultimatum. "Let me tell you guys something," she said gravely. "When I make a promise, I _never_ break my word. _Ever._ "

"Yippee for you," Flynn droned.

"So believe me when I say this," Rapunzel continued. "If you do this _one thing_ for me, then _I promise_ that the minute the fireworks end, I will return the mask and the bag to you, and you will never see me again."

"Well, that last part's certainly tempting…" muttered Flynn.

" _But_ ," Rapunzel gave the other two her fiercest stare. "I also promise that if you refuse to help me, then I will go find someone else who will, and it will be the mask and the satchel that you never see again."

Through all this, the Snow Queen had remained silent, but now she said, in a low voice: "I'll do it."

" _Really?_ " Rapunzel gasped eagerly.

"Really?" echoed a disbelieving Flynn.

" _On two conditions_ ," the Snow Queen added. "First, you have to swear never to tell anyone that you got my mask off, and never to give any kind of description of me. In fact, don't mention this whole fiasco at all. Second – while we're traveling together, don't _ever_ touch me. Don't tap me on the shoulder, don't elbow me, and _please_ try to avoid accidentally bumping into me."

Rapunzel bristled. "I'm not a plague victim, you know."

"Trust me – the "no touching" policy is for _your_ protection," the Snow Queen replied grimly. "Do you agree to my terms?"

Rapunzel considered her, and then nodded. "Yes: I promise to never tell anyone about meeting you or what you look like, and I promise not to touch you."

"Good. Then we have a deal."

"Good," Rapunzel smiled with satisfaction, then turned to address the holdout. "How about you, Flynn Rider – what do you say?"

Flynn shook his head. "I didn't want to have to do this, goldie, but you leave me no choice. _Here comes the smolder_."

He lowered his head, and Rapunzel tensed in anticipation of an attack; but when Flynn looked back up, his face had contorted into the most bizarre expression she had ever seen. His eyes had gone all squinty, his brows seemed to be trying to meet in the middle, and his lips were puckered out like he'd just bitten into a lemon. Rapunzel wondered if hanging from the wrists had finally gotten too painful for him.

" _That's_ how you supposedly seduce women?" the Snow Queen said acerbically. "You look like you're constipated."

"This is an off day for me, okay? This doesn't usually happen," Flynn told her, still trying to hold the smolder.

The Snow Queen rolled her eyes. " _Sure_ it doesn't… probably because all the women you make that ridiculous face at are blind drunk."

"Hey – I've been hit twice with a frying pan, and I'm a little concussed!" Flynn snapped at her, his face finally reverting to its natural (albeit severely irritated) state. Then he gasped and leveled an accusing glare at Rapunzel. " _You broke my smolder!_ "

"Will you quit making weird faces and just give me a straight answer?" the blonde girl cried in exasperation.

Flynn scowled, but sighed and said, "Oh, _fine_! You get your wish – I'll take you to see the stupid fireworks."

" _Yes!_ " Rapunzel cheered, jumping into the air and pumping her fist. Then she caught sight of the looks on Flynn and the Snow Queen's faces, and cleared her throat. "I'm glad we could all come to an agreement," she said in her very best dignified tone.

"Whatever," Flynn muttered. "D'you maybe want to let us down now?"

"Yeah, I lost all feeling in my arms about five minutes ago," said the Snow Queen.

"Right, of course!" Rapunzel nodded. Then she took another look at the rigging she'd constructed for her captives, and realized she hadn't planned a way to get them back out of it. "Hmm…"

Flynn and the Snow Queen groaned.

Then Rapunzel's face brightened. "Oh no, wait – I've got it!"

" _Whoa, wait wait wait_ –" the other two yelped as Rapunzel's hair rapidly unraveled around them. The golden strands came completely loose, and Flynn and the Snow Queen dropped, screaming all the way. Rapunzel, however, had already grasped another hank of hair in each hand and extended them out over the railing to loop around the falling bodies; she braced her feet, leaned back, and pulled as the weight caught, and Flynn Rider and the Snow Queen swung over the next landing down, where Rapunzel released them to land resoundingly. She quickly retracted and untangled all the locks that she'd been hanging and swinging her prisoners-turned-allies from, and hurried down the stairs.

"See? No trouble!" she said gaily. Her smile hitched as Flynn and the Snow Queen shot her death glares from their crumpled positions on the floor of the landing. "It wasn't _that_ bad, was it?"

"Oh no, not at all!" Flynn replied with biting sarcasm. "I just had a minor heart attack and broke my tailbone – no big deal!"

The Snow Queen groaned and began extracting her hands from the cloth they'd been bundled into. "What did you cover my hands with?" she asked Rapunzel, shaking the thing out to get a better look.

It was Flynn who answered. "I believe those are my boxers."

" _Ew!_ " shrieked the Snow Queen, flinging the now-frost-encrusted underpants as far away as possible. Flynn rolled his eyes.

To the surprise of both, Rapunzel casually picked up the boxers and held them out towards Flynn. "Do you want to use this to clean the blood off your face before we go?"

Flynn sighed, snatched the undies out of her hand, and then started the spit-and-wipe routine.

As the Snow Queen rose to her feet, still shaking her hands in disgust, Rapunzel asked, "So… did you smear bugs on your face deliberately?"

At first, the other girl just looked blankly at Rapunzel. Then she said, "Oh," filled her hands with pure white snow, and scrubbed her face. "Better?" she asked Rapunzel after a minute or so. The golden-haired girl nodded, and the Snow Queen discarded the mixture of white fluff and bug juice.

Rapunzel moved to check in with Flynn as the Snow Queen began trying to fix her severely disheveled braid. "You've still got some in your chin-hair," she told him. Flynn grunted dismissively and tossed the ruined boxers aside; Rapunzel picked them back up and reached for his face. "Here, I can get it…"

Flynn scrambled away. "What am I, _four?_ Leave me alone!"

"You're going to walk around all day with that mess on your face?" Rapunzel retorted, hands on her hips.

"It's _my_ face, and I'll have a bloody beard if I want to!" declared Flynn, arms folded.

" _Four_ sounds about right," interjected the Snow Queen, now sporting a sleek bun and bangs. She unzipped her blue-and-black jacket and tossed it to Rapunzel. "Put that in the bag – I don't want anyone recognizing me without my mask on."

Flynn wolf-whistled; the Snow Queen was down to her thigh-high boots, black leggings, and a lacy camisole. "Love the new look – you'll be a hit on the street corners, Pretty Woman!"

The Snow Queen glared at him and held out her arms; a long, icy-blue shirt materialized on her body.

"Wow," said a wide-eyed Rapunzel.

Flynn tried to hide the fact that he was equally impressed, resorting to his usual fallback: snark. "Oooh, a shirt made out of ice – _that's_ not gonna chafe."

"It won't," the Snow Queen replied shortly, creating a pair of white gloves out of thin air and slipping them on. "All right –" she turned to Flynn, put one hand on her hip, and pointed the other one down the fire escape stairs. "– you first. You know this area better, and I'd rather have you in front where I can see you."

Flynn gave her a mocking bow. "As you command, Your Royal Chilliness."

"That reminds me: don't refer to me as the Snow Queen while my mask is off."

"What should we call you instead?" Rapunzel asked.

The towheaded woman hesitated. Then she said, " _Elsa_. My name is Elsa."

…

Barely five minutes after the thief, the wintry sorceress, and the blackmailing blonde had left the building, the Heroes United squad, half the police force, and a dog with a grudge moved in.

Snow White landed beside Lieutenant Oberlipp, who was standing in front of the entrance while barking orders at his men; his K-9 assistant was sitting still as stone at his left side, nose, eyes, and ears all quivering and pointing at the tenement door.

"Hi again!" Snow White said cheerfully. "There's quite a bit of ice up on the roof, so they were definitely here, but it looks like they left again – could you have Maximus sniff around for their exit route?"

"Let's take a walk, Maximus," Oberlipp said, starting towards the alleyway at the side of the building. The dog grumbled, but followed the Lieutenant, who just barely avoided colliding with an attractive, dark-haired woman in a red dress.

"Oh – beg your pardon, ma'am!" said the flustered Oberlipp.

The woman laughed. "Oh no, please, pardon _me_. I should know better than to get in the way of one of Kingston's finest! Oh, there's so many of you here!" she said, gazing at the policemen spreading out to surround the tenement with an air of great surprise. "Has something terrible happened?"

"Not especially – we're tracking a thief and a rogue super, that's all," the Lieutenant informed her.

"A rogue super?" the woman gasped, turning pale. "What – what does this one do?"

"It's the Snow Queen again, ma'am, and I don't think you need to worry," Oberlipp told her, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. Maximus glanced slyly up at his commanding officer, then started casually edging away. "She seems to be pretty focused on Rider this time, and we're very close to apprehending the two of them anyway."

"Well, thank God you and your men are on the case," the woman smiled up at the Lieutenant. "Are they in that building? Is that why you've closed it off?"

"We think they've left, actually, but we're checking all possible exit points to be sure. Ah, speaking of which," Oberlipp coughed self-consciously, and took a step back. "I'd better get back to that. Come, Maximus." He blinked as he realized the dog was no longer at his side. "Maximus?"

A bark echoed in the alleyways; once Maximus saw that he had the Lieutenant's attention, he put his nose to the ground and took off down the cross-alley.

"He's got the scent again!" Oberlipp grinned. "Men, follow that dog!" he called as he chased after Maximus.

Behind him, the woman in the red dress waved; but as soon as the police were out of sight, she dropped her charming smile and whipped out her phone, pulling up an app that showed a map of the surrounding city blocks.

" _No!_ Where are you?" she hissed. She zoomed out on the map until a red dot appeared on the screen, several neighborhoods away. " _Now_ where do you think you're going?" she muttered in exasperation.

The city grid and the red dot disappeared from the screen as a call came in from a blocked number. The woman sighed irritably before tapping the "answer" button.

"You know, this might go a little faster if you would stop calling me every five minutes for a progress report," she said stiffly into the phone.

" _You still have not recovered the subject, then?_ " replied a distorted voice.

"She's on the move again, but I'll catch up to her soon," the woman assured her caller, neglecting to mention that the subject in question had apparently only missed running into the police by mere minutes.

" _We have devoted an extraordinary amount of time, money, and resources to this project, Dr. Gothel. If Subject: Rapunzel is lost or damaged, we will be_ most displeased."

"Calm down," Dr. Gothel replied. "She's adrift and alone in unfamiliar territory, and she'll be too wary of strangers to ask for assistance. I'll have her back and on her way to you in no time at all."

* * *

 **For those of you who are curious: The setting of this fic is meant to be one of those coastal New England cities that was founded back in the 1600s by a bunch of European refugees in a quaintly-named sailing ship. Despite the fact that real-life New England is absolutely littered with towns named Kingston,** _ **this**_ **one is entirely fictional. I'm also leaving it ambiguous as to exactly which state Kingston's located in.**

 **If anyone's wondering why only "Crystal" is shown exiting the helicopter, even though both she and "Dreamgirl" show up at Lieutenant Oberlipp's car later, that's because Dreamgirl's primary ability is astral projection, and she can manifest anywhere she pleases at any time, kind of like teleportation.**

 **All here who are grossed out by Gothel flirting with Mr. Mustache, raise your hand! (raises own hand)**


End file.
